Prince Double Daddy: Royal Heat, #5

By Layla Valentine and Ana Sparks

Okay, so I haven't been the best boss,
But I'm gonna prove I'm the best daddy.

As my country's crown prince and favorite playboy, I'm used to getting what I want, whenever I want. Besides living a life of fun and frivolity, the only other thing that truly matters to me is my daughter, Arabella.

Actually, that's not entirely true.

Juggling my single-dad duties, running a business, and a fully-booked social calendar would be impossible without my superstar personal assistant Remi, and I'd be lost without her. I may have had the hots for her since the day we met, but risking our professional relationship has always been a chance I didn't want to take—until now.

When Remi hands me her notice with one hand, and pulls me into bed with the other, it seems like I may be on the verge of getting the one thing I've always wanted, and been denied.

But of course it's not that simple. In the cold light of day, she tells me that not only is she still planning on leaving, but she's pregnant, and intent on taking the baby with her!

Can I convince her to stay before she disappears forever? Can we make one big, new family?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Layla Valentine
• Release date: Oct 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215167168

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

REMI

E xcuse me? I asked, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. Trying to sound as professional as possible. And trying very desperately to remember that I was good at my job, I’d handled a million situations like this before, and I knew how to get through this particular issue without actually punching a hole in any walls.

Even though that was getting harder and harder with every passing second.

I said, Lidia continued, that I need the yacht for the entire weekend rather than just for the day. Surely you can do that, Remi. Isn’t that your job?

Her tone was disrespectful, but that was nothing new, either. This woman always acted like she was the best thing since sliced bread—and like everyone else should be worshipping her better-than-breadliness. I’d learned a long time ago not to take that part seriously.

The part about having the yacht all weekend, though? That was a big problem. Because she’d only booked it for the one night, and I already had other clients booked to use it on Saturday and Sunday. So no, I couldn’t do that. Not even for the woman my boss called his best friend—with occasional ‘benefits’, if you know what I mean.

I mean, I was good. But I wasn’t good enough to be able to clone the yacht at the drop of a hat just so she could keep it longer than she’d originally booked it for.

Look, Lidia, I get it, I said. Professionally. "Sometimes parties get out of hand, and sometimes you decide you want the yacht for longer than you originally told the person responsible for renting it to you. But that doesn’t change the fact that you told me Friday night, not the whole weekend. The yacht has other places to be on Saturday, and then again on Sunday. I can’t just let you keep it that long. It’s my job to make sure all of our clients are taken care of, not just one of them."

It wasn’t placating. It wasn’t subtle. It was effectively a barely disguised middle finger, telling her that we had other clients and that she didn’t get to be the most important person on the block—or at the marina—in this scenario. No, it wasn’t a good idea to pull that sort of stunt on her, and yeah, I was most definitely going to hear about it from my boss later, but at that moment, I didn’t really care.

She was messing with my schedule. And I hated when people did that.

I hated it even more when they acted like they had the right to mess with my schedule—and like I should just deal with it.

It made me feel like I was nothing more than the hired help, a cheap assistant, and that most certainly did not describe my position with this company.

And no, in case you’re wondering, it didn’t have a damn thing to do with the fact that Juan-Carlos—my boss—occasionally slept with this woman, and the fact that I thought it was a glaring violation of ethics, on both his part and hers. If anything, that little caveat probably should have made me more careful with the way I was using my tongue—and my metaphorical middle finger.

But my answer didn’t have anything to do with that. I’d disliked the woman for a long time before I even knew they dabbled with each other between the sheets. And I didn’t actually think he gave her any preferential treatment because of their relationship, when it came to renting her his equipment.

I mean his boating equipment.

Hell, I didn’t think he gave any woman any preferential treatment. With his boating equipment or… otherwise.

But that was a problem for another conversation. Certainly not this one. Even if I’d wanted to bring it up with Lidia, I couldn’t imagine how it would possibly help my case. I probably wasn’t even supposed to know about them sleeping together.

I guessed I was probably just supposed to forget the time I’d caught them going at it on one of the boats after she was supposed to return it.

Unfortunately, I most definitely hadn’t been able to forget that incident.

I jerked back into the present at the sudden realization that Lidia was talking to me—and that her voice was getting louder and louder with every passing second. By the time I started paying attention again, she was outright screeching on the other end of the phone.

I yanked it away from my ear and rolled my eyes at her, waiting until there was a pause in the screeching to put the phone back to my ear and try to get a word in edgewise.

I understand all that, Lidia, and I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing else I can do. The yacht is booked for Saturday and Sunday, and we’ll need to have it returned promptly at ten on Saturday morning so we can put it through the usual cleaning process before we send it back out again. That’s the contract you signed, and it’s non-negotiable. If you don’t think you can carry through on that, though, you let me know and I’ll refund your money for Friday night. We wouldn’t want you paying for a night if we’re not going to let you have the yacht, after all.

I pressed my lips together and widened my eyes, waiting to see how that little jab went down.

And I heard her starting to get herself back under control. Thank God. There was a long pause, filled with a terrifically large indrawn breath—and no more screaming.

I guess you’re right, she finally said with a loud, dramatic sigh. I just didn’t think we’d want to stay out any longer than Friday night, you know?

I do know, I said, doing my best to sound sympathetic now that she was at least making an effort to be reasonable. I completely get it. But you know our policies. And you know how busy we are. I’d hate to lose you as a client for something as silly as you having a terrific party that you don’t want to finish with before you’re ready.

Maybe it would be best if I just rescheduled for a time when I could have it for the whole weekend. What do you have available?

I breathed a sigh of my own—this one caused by relief—and started to go through the schedule, outlining the weekends when I could give her the boat for the entire span and crossing off the weekends that didn’t work for her. After several moments of back and forth, we finally found a weekend that worked, booked it, transferred her deposit over to that weekend, and ended the conversation as friends.

Despite the things I’d said to her.

I hung up the phone with another eye roll and then looked at my assistant, Sophia.

Well played, she said, her voice full of admiration. I’ve never heard anyone handle Lidia so easily before.

I gave her a crooked smile. This isn’t my first time, I admitted. I know what buttons I can push when it comes to her. And pretending that I understand why she’s so spoiled and irrational always works best.

Sophia just shook her head. Horizontes Azuis is lucky to have you. Juan-Carlos is lucky to have you.

I tipped my head back at her. "Ain’t that the truth? If only someone would tell him that. Now, I’m going to get some coffee and try to recover from that conversation. I’ll be back in half an hour."

I got up and walked out of the office we shared without waiting for her response, closing the door behind me. And then I looked around at the larger office, my mind moving over the space as my eyes did.

Horizontes Azuis. The personal holding of Juan-Carlos Moyano. Prince Juan-Carlos Moyano to you. Crown prince of the tiny island nation of Favaçal, where he and his parents were little more than figureheads that the standing government trotted out on Official State Occasions, and who rubber-stamped the things that the government actually did for them.

They were nothing more than stand-up celebrities. Royalty for purchase. Tin soldiers who masqueraded as king, queen, and prince. Rich, courtesy of the allowance the country gave them, but nothing important. Which was why Juan-Carlos had a life that had nothing to do with his princely duties.

It was why he had this company. And it was why he had me—his lead assistant. Officially, I was the CEO. Unofficially, I was the woman who took care of everything for Juan-Carlos. And what a funny little company it was, when you came right down to it. As a prince, Juan-Carlos had a whole lot of toys, and though he didn’t like them personally, he did like to rent them out.

So essentially, our company rented out the toys that the government of Favaçal had bought for their crown prince. Their crown prince who didn’t actually do anything for the country except show up at certain occasions and look… well, princely.

Yeah, I saw the irony there. I saw how little sense it made—and I was well aware of the enormous waste of time and money, and the fact that I was banking on every last cent of it. Taking advantage of it, if you wanted to know the truth.

Because I was also high up enough in the company that I made an extremely good salary and had the most control in the place, aside from Juan-Carlos.

I was in a good position here. He needed me, and he paid me extremely well. It made me willing to look past the waste, and how he was taking advantage of the government of Favaçal and the country itself. All those taxpayers paying their pennies and dimes just so he could have yachts and jet skis and trucks that he never used.

I was, after all, taking advantage of it, too. Sort of.

But I was freaking bored. I was tired of doing deal after deal with spoiled rich kids who wanted to look like they had a yacht but didn’t actually want to pay for one themselves, and I was sick to death of having to deal with people who thought they actually walked on water. I was also tired of being constantly overworked and stressed, prey to Juan-Carlos’s idea of me being available to him at all times of the day and for pretty much any task he might set.

Yeah, it was a far cry from Miami, and the bad marriage I’d left there. I was at least dealing with people who weren’t trying to hurt me or steal from me.

But I’d taken this company from being little more than an idea all the way up to a being a raging success. I’d been here from the ground floor to what I already knew was the pinnacle. And I was ready for a new challenge.

One that didn’t include Juan-Carlos or any of his spoiled friends.

When I walked through the main floor of the office and out the front door, I did it with my mind only partially on the people around me. The rest of my mind? That was already moving forward, trying to figure out where the next opportunity would be—and how I was going to get there.

I had some ideas. Hell, I even had a list of companies that had contacted me, asking me to come in and talk to them about where I might fit in, courtesy of me dropping oh-so-subtle hints to friends and contacts that I might be persuaded to leave Horizontes. I just hadn’t acted on any of them, yet. But my birthday was coming up, and turning thirty-two was starting to feel like an awfully convenient deadline for finally making a move.

I pushed through the doors into the sunlight outside, my eyes on the café across the street and my mind on my future. Already making plans. Already putting together a list of the companies I would call first.

Of course, I didn’t dare take too long at that café, and I was back in the office within thirty minutes, just like I’d said I would be. God forbid Juan-Carlos need something while I was somewhere other than the office. It just wasn’t worth the drama it would bring on.

The minute the clock hit five, though, I hit the power button on my computer, told Sophia I was out of there, and scooted through the door.

I wasn’t so fast that I missed her shocked expression—the widened eyes and lifted brows as she turned the page of the contract she was only halfway through reading.

And I couldn’t really say anything to that. Because it was definitely unlike me to be jamming out of the office so quickly. Usually, I stayed until everything was completely done—and even after that, if there was anything else I thought I could take care of before I left for the day.

I mean essentially, I lived at this office, staying longer than I needed to on the off chance that the boss needed something or just wanted to bounce some ideas around. Staying here just to make sure I didn’t have to field any panicked—or accusatory—phone calls once I got home.

Honestly, I saw the office a whole lot more than I saw the house that I’d paid so much for up the street from here.

But the moment I had made the decision earlier about quitting, everything had changed. I’d felt my shoulders grow lighter, the tightness in my chest ease. I’d felt immediately like I’d been searching for a path forward for years, and it had suddenly appeared right there in front of my feet.

I had been thinking about leaving for a year, but hadn’t committed to it. Now I realized that I actually had. And that I wasn’t going to back down from that.

It felt so good that I was actually grinning to myself as I walked through the cubicles that made up the main floor, where the salespeople worked. I even threw a smile at the new receptionist, who I found to be incredibly obnoxious. I